"Wait, everyone's happy? That's great news!"
As soon as the words left Kane's mouth, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at him with expressions that were even more solemn than before.
"Fine, fine... let guess," Kane said, sighing. "Aside from Filch being petrified, did sothing else happen? Like, I don't know, more writing on the wall?"
His guess only made them look more serious. They quickly grabbed him and dragged him to their usual secluded huddle spot. "How did you know?" Harry whispered urgently.
Hermione took a deep breath, her mind racing. Truth be told, she'd been having so rather uncharitable thoughts lately—wondering if Kane's interest-free Gringotts loans or his Diagon Alley "reconstruction plans" were actually just clever ways to pocket Galleons.
She'd spent quite a bit of ti internally grumbling about his "slly aristocrat" vibes.
But as much as she poked fun at his high-society habits, she didn't truly believe he'd petrify Filch over a petty argunt.
She certainly didn't believe he was the Heir of Slytherin. To her, Kane was undeniably eccentric, but he wasn't a villain.
"It wasn't ," Kane said, shaking his head and eting their expectant gazes. "I was in Dumbledore's office last night discussing things. Before Filch was petrified, his cat, Mrs. Norris, was hit first."
"Neville and I found her. That's why Filch got the wrong idea and I ended up giving him a piece of my mind. That's all there is to it."
The trio let out a collective breath of relief. That made much more sense. Kane's fashion sense might be bizarre, his way of studying might be unorthodox, and his magic might be outright strange, but at least his moral compass was still pointed in the right direction.
He wasn't the kind of monster who'd go on a rampage over a spat or look down on Muggle-borns.
"Well, now we can relax," Harry said, patting his chest. "To be honest, we were worried you really were the Heir, even if it seed unlikely."
"Relaxed? Good. Let's go eat," Ron said, tugging at their sleeves. "It's practically a triple celebration: Filch is out of our hair, Dumbledore gave us the day off, and Kane isn't a dark wizard. To the Great Hall!"
Hermione crossed her arms. "Aside from that last one, which part of this is 'good'? There's a potential murderer in Hogwarts!"
"Look... do you want to stay here while we bring you breakfast?" Ron joked.
"No thanks. I can't stay here forever."
They made it to the Great Hall, but just as Kane sat down to console his frayed nerves with a decent al, a paper bird from Dumbledore fluttered down onto the table.
"What now?" Hermione asked, leaning in.
"Dumbledore wants in his office after breakfast." Kane glanced up at the staff table. Dumbledore was already leaving. It looked urgent.
"Why doesn't he ever give a day off?" Kane grumbled. He grabbed a large at pie, split two sausages down the middle, and stuffed them inside along with pickles, jam, bacon, and a fried egg.
He rolled the whole thing up like a massive burrito and headed toward the Headmaster's office, taking a large bite.
He lingered outside the door for a mont—mostly to finish his "burrito" so Dumbledore wouldn't try to steal a bite—then wiped his mouth and pushed the door open.
"Dumbledore, what's up?"
Dumbledore smiled. "The symptoms for Filch and Mrs. Norris have been identified. It isn't fatal. We just need a potion made from Mandrake juice to revive them."
"That's great. Once the school's Mandrakes mature, they'll be back on their feet."
"Actually, Kane, we need them awake sooner. We need to know exactly what petrified them."
Kane imdiately saw where this was going. "Look, I actually like those two Mandrake spirits. They help Hagrid with the farm work and steal carrots like giant white radishes."
He sighed. "I'd hate to see them go, but for the sake of Hogwarts, I'll go ask them for so juice. But I have one condition."
Dumbledore leaned in. "Go on."
"Save Mrs. Norris. You can read mories, right? A cat's mory should work too," Kane said darkly.
"And Mr. Filch? You want him to wait for the school's crop to mature?" Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Mm-hmm. If you can find Mandrakes elsewhere, fine, but my two 'radishes' are staying put." Kane was serious; he wasn't exactly a forgiving person when it ca to Filch.
"This is good enough, Kane. Please, be quick."
Kane headed straight for Hagrid's hut. The two Mandrake spirits were currently watching Hagrid juggle tomatoes, clapping their little short arms and laughing, completely unaware of the "danger" approaching.
Kane tapped them with his wand, and both Mandrakes slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Hagrid dropped a tomato in surprise. "Kane! Is everything alright?"
"Dumbledore needs Mandrake juice to save Mrs. Norris, so..."
Hagrid understood instantly. His face fell. He'd grown quite fond of the pair. They helped him in the garden, bickered with Fang, and even though they stole carrots, they provided great emotional support.
They'd even started carving their own little "houses" out of wood and potatoes. To Hagrid, they were more like peculiar little wizards than plants.
He'd forgotten that their ultimate purpose was usually to be dragged off to Snape's cauldron.
He sighed and went inside to fetch a machete that was longer than Kane, intending to give them a "rciful" end. Better a quick death from a friend than being boiled alive or sliced into bits by Snape.
Just as Hagrid prepared for the grim task, he saw Kane straddling the Mandrakes. Kane drew so fluid from them with a needle, tucked the vials into his pocket, and stood up. "Done. They'll wake up in a bit."
Hagrid stared, clutching his machete. "Wait... we aren't killing them?"
"Hagrid, you're being a bit extre," Kane said calmly. "These are living beings. They've been at Hogwarts a long ti; I couldn't just do away with them." He patted a green leaf on one of the Mandrakes' heads. "Alright, I'm off to deliver these. Bye, Hagrid!"
Hagrid watched him go, then looked at the Mandrakes as they began to blink their eyes open. He quickly hid the machete behind his back. Don't want to scare the poor plants.
Back in the infirmary, a crowd had gathered: Dumbledore, Snape, Kane (sitting on a bed), and Mrs. Norris (lying on a bed). Filch, who had been on a bed but was moved to make room for Kane, stood nearby like a stone statue.
Snape added the juice to his cauldron. As the colors shifted and the potion was bottled into a single test tube, it was ready.
"You did well, Kane. How are our Mandrake friends?" Dumbledore asked.
"Nursing their sore backsides, probably," Kane said awkwardly. "It was my first ti transfiguring a needle; it was a bit blunt."
"I see... let us hope they recover well."
Snape sprinkled the potion over Mrs. Norris. A second later, the cat snapped back to life, hissing so loudly she nearly hit the ceiling. Dumbledore caught her with a quick spell.
"Now, be calm... I need to see sothing..."
Dumbledore looked deep into the cat's eyes, stroking her fur. Finally, his expression shifted.
"It's a Basilisk," he said quietly.
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